


Love Notes

by OnlyFoxMulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s07e17 All Things, Episode: s07e19 Hollywood A.D., Episode: s08e17 Empedocles, Episode: s11e10 My Struggle IV, F/M, MSR, Movie: The X-Files: I Want to Believe (2008), Season/Series 07, Season/Series 08, Season/Series 11, The X-Files Revival, post-IWTB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-07 19:43:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19857001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyFoxMulder/pseuds/OnlyFoxMulder
Summary: Mulder has a habit of writing little notes for Scully once their intimate relationship begins. As it turns out, she loves them. This contains 5 scenarios during different stages of their relationship.That’s about it, guys.





	Love Notes

**Author's Note:**

> I’m really new to writing fanfiction. My only writing experience comes from college when I wrote countless research papers on crime statistics. Definitely not the same as creative writing but I’m having such a good time and when this idea came to me, I had to see where my imagination took me. Additionally, the tiny bit of smut in this one was the first I’ve attempted so it’s probably rough. As I always say on Twitter, sex is a lot easier to have than to write. Hopefully it’s satisfactory and thank you for reading! 
> 
> Thank you Amanda (@OnlyTrustScully) for the beta! Always appreciated!

**One.  
**

It all began with a few sentences messily scrawled out on a crumpled up receipt he must have found in the deep recesses of his pocket.

 _‘Scully, My couch misses you. Have dinner and a movie night back at my place tonight. 7:30._ _Love, M._

_P.S. I sorta miss you, too.’_

Love. Her heart fluttered when her eyes glossed over the most important word in the note, written in his familiar scrawl. It was so Mulder—haphazardly asking her out on the first old and dingy scrap of paper he could find. It made her smile in the solitude of their basement office, an early evening sun casting dim shadows across their shared desk. 

Gone were the days of longing for the courage to cast doubt aside and dive head first into an intimate relationship with Mulder. The night before when she crawled under his incredibly soft sheets, finding him awake and willing to take the plunge right along with her. The kisses, sighs and muffled declarations of love they shared breathed new life into their relationship and made it all the more precious.

Work forced her out from underneath the warm cocoon of his arms and into the chilled remnants of clothing scooped off the floor. Yesterday’s clothes. Unfortunately for them, a playful and romantic morning in bed would have to wait until the weekend. 

The remainder of the work day passed in companionable silence, save for the mindless chatter when a particular file warranted discussion. He would occasionally shoot a huge grin in her direction, causing her stomach to flip-flop with excitement. The banality of pouring over potential leads was oddly perfect in this instance; it proved they could fully manage to balance the work and their newly acquired intimacy. She found herself returning every smile with one of her own.

After a short bathroom break, she arrived back to find Mulder making a hasty retreat. Throwing his suit coat over one broad shoulder and closing the metal filing cabinet with a clang, he said he would see her later and went out the door in a flash. She should have been pissed as hell for his assumption but the note made up for it.

The note. Words and letters arranged together into an invitation. An invitation she would eagerly accept wearing the skimpiest underwear she owned, her other green sweater she knew he adored, and a smile. A pack of his preferred beer couldn’t hurt hurt either.

She flipped the receipt back over in her hand. Sunflower seeds. _How typical_. She found those damn things everywhere—rental cars, their desk, her couch when he crashed at her place, and somehow inside her travel bags. 

Stuffing the note into the side pocket of her purse, she cleaned up the remaining mess on their shared desk. If he could cut out an hour early, she could too. She had an evening to prepare for.

Little did Scully know she’d eventually have a cardboard box, packed with hundreds of little slips of paper filled with the thoughts of her strange, brilliant and adorable partner.

** Two.  
**

Scully barely sensed the feather-light kisses Mulder was leaving in her hair and on her cheek, lost in the fog of sleep and feeling too comfortable to find her way out. 

A deep, rumbling chuckle roused her a bit further, the sound too heavenly to resist. Then he spoke directly in her ear, dropping another kiss for good measure. “I’m just gonna run out to find us some good coffee and food. I’ll be back soon.”

A mumbled ‘mhm,’ was all she could manage. The bed creaked, keys jangled, and the door slid shut with a dull thud announcing his exit. The noise brought her out of the fog and into the hazy light of an unfamiliar room.

In a flash, she remembered their incredibly spacious and expensive hotel room Mulder insisted on booking them after their night out in the city. They had a romantic dinner where they split two bottles of red and devoured their dinner of choice—he, a thick slice of lasagna and she, a plate of creamy fettuccine—while Mulder played with the bare skin of her knee under the table. Then a moonlit walk along the beach: arms linked, fingers interlocked, and shoulders pressed against each other. And last but not least, life affirming sex with the love of her life. Frantic and hot, the second time slow and gentle. 

Their trip to L.A. had turned out to be a wonderful vacation for the two of them—one they desperately needed and deserved. She sighed in satisfaction and stretched her limbs. 

She padded along leisurely into the enormous bathroom on the other side of their suite and considered taking a soak in the bath when something caught her eye. Resting upon the sleek quartz countertop sat something that didn’t match its surroundings; another handwritten message. This time on the hotel pad of paper left in every room. 

_‘Good morning, beautiful.’_

That was all. Three words. 

She smiled to herself, unusually fond of his compliment. The brief glimpse she saw of herself in the vanity mirror halted any further action. Something about the word beautiful and her uncommon curiosity to know if she could see what Mulder saw made her freeze in place.

The woman reflected back in the mirror was the same person she saw when getting dressed and meticulously applying a layer of makeup before work most mornings. The slight difference between those days and now was _work_ Scully versus playful Scully. This stripped down version of herself wasn’t foreign to her, just long unseen.

She would call herself pretty in the general sense. Her cropped red hair suited her porcelain skin and the length was functional for her career, though she did prefer the slightly longer locks she wore a few years back. The sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and scattered atop her cheeks gave her a youthful appearance she’d grown to appreciate. She often received compliments on her blue eyes—she didn’t have any strong opinions either way. They were something the entire Scully family inherited.

Slipping off her lilac colored satin robe in preparation for a steamy shower, she admired her body in earnest. The FBI gym kept her in shape, her petite form was toned in all the right places. From the slope of her breasts, to her slim waist and thighs, she was happy with her appearance.

Turning her back on her reflection, she started the shower and didn’t have to wait long for the blast of heat and steam to swirl throughout the room. The water was mildly scalding but it felt incredible nonetheless. She washed her hair quickly with her own shampoo and conditioner from home; the scent of jasmine filling the enclosed shower. 

Two muscled arms abruptly encircled her waist making her tense before she realized it was just Mulder sneaking up on her… in the shower.

“Jesus, Mulder! Don’t _do_ that!” She yelped and tried to turn in his arms. He only held her tighter.

He pressed his lips to her ear as his fingers glided over the smooth skin of her stomach. “Good morning, beautiful.”

His honeyed tone coated her insides with something molten, liquid and overly sweet. “Beautiful, huh?” Was that her voice? Months into this changed relationship, Scully was still taken aback by the desperation in her voice when his hands were on her.

Those large hands continued their exploration of her belly, his growing erection pressing against her backside. She pressed back, earning herself a rough groan. This was escalating rapidly.

“Oh yes, Scully… beautiful. From that big brain of yours all the way to your dainty, pink painted toes—you’re _beautiful_ ,” his voice sounded strained but he continued, “God, Scully, your skin is so soft.”

After scratching her nails across his forearms, his elegant fingers trailed downwards to caress her hips, before one hand cupped the back of her thigh and opened her. Her breath hitched in her chest. She knew what he was seeking.

She gave it to him.

The standard hotel bar of soap hit the floor with a thump as her right foot perched itself on the small shelf. Not the safest maneuver inside a wet shower, but the thought barely had time to register before one long finger danced along the crease of her thigh. His breathing was shallow. What was he waiting for?

“Mulder… please,” she whined in irritation and intentionally pushed her ass into him again, hoping to tease him into action. 

“You’re beautiful when you plead too.” She was one more smart remark away from hitting him. 

“Come on, sto—ooh god!” 

Two deliciously long fingers traced her center once, twice, three times and entered her with agonizing slowness up to the knuckles. She released the breath she was holding in her lungs and moaned when his speed increased. In and out. Over and over. 

A whimper escaped when he introduced a third finger. “Yes, Mulder, yes... more.”

“More? More what?” He had the audacity to sound disinterested. Then he grazed her throbbing clit with the heel of his hand. “Is that what you want?”

His fingers still working her into a frenzy, she nodded. It was enough. Thank god, it was enough. He ground into her hypersensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, tempo increasing with each pass. Without warning, Scully sagged forward—unable to hold herself up any longer as her release neared. 

Mulder was her anchor, always her anchor, pulling her firmly to his chest with a free arm and nuzzling into her shoulder. Her breathy moan bordered on pain when he palmed her swollen breasts, tweaking a nipple. “I’ve got you, honey... I’ve got you.”

His voice. Jesus. She was close, so close, she could feel the familiar coil deep inside her belly—just below the surface. She needed… just… a little more.

Always perceptive to her needs, he nipped her neck and his voice drawled in her ear. “Show me, honey… show me how beautiful you can be.”

She did, silently coming apart in his strong and capable arms. Mulder whispered words she couldn’t hear, fingers slipping away and softly stroking her hip while he waited.

When her surroundings came back into focus, she lowered her leg from the side of the shower and turned to face him. 

His soaked chestnut brown hair fell across his forehead and those chameleon eyes of his turned a stunning shade of green in the harsh brightness of the bathroom. The knowing smile on his face was unmistakable.

She stepped closer, winding her arms around his neck in encouragement, wanting a taste of those lips. After all, she missed her usual morning kiss. He linked his arms below her ass, lifting her with ease. She shivered when her back made contact with the chilled wall of the shower, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Hi,” she said, savoring the closeness and her ability to see eye to eye with him. 

He laughed, sweeping a stray lock of her wet hair from her cheek. “Hi.”

Without preamble, he cradled her jaw and traced her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. When her lips parted, he dove in, opening her mouth even further to slide his tongue alongside hers. She hummed low in her throat and dug her nails into the nape of his neck, eliciting an identical sound from Mulder. The kiss was slippery and sloppy, a perfect combination of a mounting need and tender exploration. His stubble was rough against her smooth cheeks, making her pant into his open mouth. She loved the stimulation it provided, reigniting the simmering heat in her belly.

Their lips finally broke away, harsh panting shared between them. His talented lower lip was inflamed and his eyes turned the smoky hazel color that made her knees weak.

“You’re beautiful.” 

He smiled.

**Three.**

The pain in her back threatened to ruin this completely perfect moment between she and Mulder before it even began. The throbbing was nothing new to her by this stage but she had longed for the feel of him for months and was loathe to let it ruin this moment.

They were snuggled up tight on the couch as best they could with her huge belly in the way. The awkwardness of his return had begun to dissolve and their previous companionship was left in its wake. Wrapped in his arms, she reveled in the closeness she’d been craving since the day he went missing. His familiar scent and touch lulled her into a light doze, one that was rudely interrupted by the knots forming in her back. 

“Mulder?”

“Mmm?”

“My back hurts.” She reluctantly pulled away and attempted to swing her legs to the floor, her body protesting. He chuckled lightly behind her. She turned as best she could and shot him a withering glare, to which he laughed some more.

“Need some help?” He asked sweetly, getting up and off the couch with little trouble. She would have smacked him if she wasn’t so happy to have him back.

“Do you mind if I go to bed a little bit early tonight?” Mulder helped Scully to her feet before she turned to face him. “I need to stretch out.”

He shook his head. “Of course I don’t mind.”

“Oh!” She remembered. “I have something for you. Hold on.”

She walked, or as Mulder would say, she _waddled_ to the bedroom to retrieve the green cloth-bound journal she wanted him to read. It rested where she left it after her last entry—the night after he was returned to her—on the nightstand.

“I um… I want you to have this.” She handed him the journal, smiling faintly. “I started writing my thoughts down after you left for Oregon and I would like you to read it.”

She watched him call back tears and struggle with the prospect of reading her private thoughts—thoughts she always fought so hard to keep secret. “Scully… are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s important to me.” She held his gaze, conveying how much it really meant to her.

He nodded, kissed her forehead gently.

“I’m going to stay up for a few… to clean up and read this.”

“Don’t fall asleep out here, okay?” She asked, praying he took the hint. She needed _them_ again and that included sleeping in the same bed.

“I won’t. Promise.”

Back in her bedroom, she went along with her usual evening routine with relative ease. In the bathroom, she immediately smiled when she glanced at the mess taking over her countertop. Mulder took full advantage of her green light and has since taken over half the space in her bathroom. Warmth spread through her at the sight of his razor, shaving cream, and toothbrush resting on the counter and the pile of dirty laundry mingling with her own in the hamper. 

She made quick work of washing up and began her nightly struggle with finding a comfortable position to rest. Even with the newly acquired pillows for virtually every nook and cranny, she was still perpetually cramped and restless. 

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, Mulder was cozying up to her from behind. When her eyes opened, the journal was next to her arm and a yellow sticky note was resting on the cover. 

_‘I’m sorry._ _I love you.’_

Her breath caught in her chest. Silent tears tricked out and splashed onto the pillow. Those arms tightened around her, causing an audible cry to escape.

“Oh, Scully, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The guilt in his tone was obvious. 

Her tears had nothing to do with sorrow or hurt and everything to do with the joy of knowing the Mulder she loved was still there and slowly returning to her. He didn’t know but she cherished those written messages and missed them terribly during his absence. Finding another one with five words she’s been aching to hear crushed her resolve.

“I love you, too… and it’s okay,” she started, her voice strong and assuring. “I’ve had… time. Time to think and I understand why you went—why I was powerless to stop you. I don’t resent you for being Fox Mulder.”

She interrupted before he could retort. “You read this whole thing?”

“Yes. I couldn’t stop. I wanted… I wanted to know everything,” he answered tremulously. “I wish I had been there… I missed so many firsts with you.”

“You did, but we still have more firsts to experience together, Mulder.”

The hand lingering on her hip suddenly wound around her belly for the second time since his return. Any residual resentment she may have felt evaporated and she covered his hand with her own.

A ready kick greeted them, drawing a stunned gasp from the man cuddled up behind her. He felt the movement of their son while he visited her in the hospital but the contact was fleeting, the tension and uncertainty lingered around them like a dark cloud. She knew Mulder was still puzzled and unsure of his place in her life, despite his lopsided smile. 

Ever since he drove them back to her apartment, she made it her sole purpose to make him understand his place was right where it had been for seven years: by her side. 

“Does that hurt?” 

“No… well, sometimes I guess, when he kicks the same spot too many times,” she laughed wistfully, recalling how much she relied upon those well-timed movements to keep her sane. “It’s comforting.”

“Does he kick for everyone?” He sounded like a timid, wounded puppy. Her heart constricted.

“No, Mulder.” It was the truth. He only moved for her, her mother and now, his father. She told him so.

He was crying, the hiccup was unmistakable. So was the shuddering of his chest against her back. The kicking in her belly persisted.

“ _I_ know you’re his dad. _He_ even knows you’re his dad. Now why don’t _you_?” She teased, praying he understood the sincerity of her question, regardless of her jovial tone.

He did.

“I know now, Scully. I know,” he declared, giving the back of her head a kiss.

“Finally.” She rolled her eyes. “Now let me sleep. Between your constant questions, the uncomfortable bed, and your insomniac child kicking the hell out of me, I didn’t have much time to sleep.”

“Anything for you, Scully.” 

** Four. **

“Shit!” She cursed when her keys landed on the doorstep with a clang. Juggling her briefcase, small purse and the coffee she stopped for on the way home, she picked up her fallen keys in a huff.

After finishing up with Christian at the hospital, the events of the week finally started to catch up to her. Her bones felt like jelly, her mind putty, and that stubborn crick in her back was flaring up. A long, lavender scented bath, comfy clothes, and strong hands were exactly what the doctor ordered. 

She observed two things once the door popped open: her house was immaculate and the mouthwatering aroma of roasted tomatoes and garlic coming from the kitchen. Her grin was unavoidable. Mulder managed to occupy his spare time this afternoon. 

The many pairs of shoes scattered around the entryway were now stacked neatly on the rack by the door. The numerous half empty bottles littering tabletops were gone and presumably in the recycling bin. Stray articles of clothing and miscellaneous clutter put away. 

Mulder had cleaned for her.

Smoothing down her mussed hair, she searched the living room and kitchen for any sign of him but only found pasta sauce simmering on the stove and silverware set on the counter for dinner.

“Mulder?” She called out expecting to hear his customary hello but was met with silence instead.

His office door was open a crack but she wasn’t able to see inside. “Mulder?” She asked again, pushing her way into the room.

Empty. And like the rest of the downstairs, it was spotless. His formerly chaotic and disorganized office was clean. The desk was polished; only his computer, lamp, notebook and mug full of pens sat on its surface. The drawers of his filing cabinets were closed, tops dusted and cleared of knickknacks. A myriad of newspaper clippings, magazine articles and printouts still covered the walls. Mulder was still Mulder after all.

A deep and powerful laugh broke the silence as she touched the ‘I Want To Believe’ poster, hanging on the wall opposite the window. It was such a driving force in both their lives. From the second she met him, the phrase became their light in the solemn darkness. Darkness that rarely stopped nipping at their heels.

“I could never get rid of that poster—no matter how much I tidy the place up,” he said, walking further into the room. His hands were behind his back.

“I wouldn’t want you to, Mulder, it means a lot to me too,” she admitted, stepping towards him. His confident smile faded and an uneasy blush formed in its place. “Where were you all this time?”

“Upstairs. I, uh, started a bath for you. I figured you would want one after…,” he trailed off, hands still behind his back as if he were wearing handcuffs.

She should know, she’s had him handcuffed any number of times over the last eight years and in various positions—behind his back, around the rungs of their old headboard, dining room chairs… even to her own wrist. 

“What’s behind your back, Mulder?” She asked, squeezing his bicep, trying to alleviate the tension in his muscles.

“This.” He produced a white envelope but said nothing else, merely holding it out for her.

 _‘Let’s leave the darkness behind us._ _-M’_

If those words didn’t make her knees weak, the contents of the envelope would because inside were two plane tickets. 

“Tickets?” Her one worded question sounded lame to her own ears but it was all she could muster at the moment. She was astonished.

“Yes. Tickets,” he spoke slowly, nodding along as if she was a young child. “To Bermuda.”

“For us?” What was with her brain? Who else would they be for?

He chuffed out another laugh. “Jeez, Scully, if I knew you were _this_ tired when I booked the flights, I would have added a few more days to our trip.”

“I thought you were kidding earlier… I didn’t think you actually wanted to get out of here.” She knew his declaration this morning was heartfelt but figured they would work on their strained relationship from home.

“Never. I’d never joke when it comes to us, Scully.” She saw the sincerity behind his puppy eyes and took pity on him, winding her arms around his waist. 

She found solace in the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear and the comforting heat his body provided, wrapping her in a loving embrace. He kissed her hair and nestled his cheek against her head, a gesture treasured by both. 

“Thank you.” 

“Shh, don’t thank me. I haven’t been the best partner. Somewhere along the line, I selfishly took you for granted, figuring you would always be there to blindly follow my sorry ass around and pick up the pieces. Our conversation at the hospital scared the shit out of me and opened my eyes. I’m going to try and be a better man, Scully. Starting with some quality time in the sun.” He sought her gaze and when their eyes met, unshed tears lined his lashes. “Just me and you.”

“I love you.” She smiled up at him, caressed his cheek.

“And I love you,” he echoed, and guided her towards the stairs with his traditional hand at the small of her back. “Your bath is getting cold. Enjoy it and I’ll finish making dinner.”

Upstairs, flowers from their backyard were tied together in a bouquet and candles were perched precariously along the rim of the tub—bath water tinted purple. His thoughtfulness truly touched her in the moment. They would be okay.

** Five. **

The sound of happily chirping birds and gentle breeze floated through the open window; the wind tickling the skin of her bare legs poking through the blankets. 

Stretching her arms out in search of the warmth Mulder would provide, Scully encountered only chilled sheets and rumpled blankets. Her eyes strained against the harsh sunlight as she observed the empty room, finding no Mulder and a suspicious quiet settling over the four walls of their home. 

Scully was finally used to being woken by her hungry six month old daughter or her fifty-eight year old father attempting to keep quiet while he coaxed sweet giggles from Lily. But this morning, the house was eerily silent. 

She was slipping on her robe when she saw the sliver of notebook paper sitting on his empty side of the bed. Her anxiety melted at the familiar sight and appreciation took its place. 

_‘Hi, honey. Lily was fussy and you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. She’s fed, changed and now we’re going to take a short nature walk outside—it’s beautiful today. Sleep in and relax. Love, M.’_

Honey. The word conjured up the unconditional affection she felt for this man. The term of endearment rolled off his tongue almost immediately after their first encounter almost two decades ago. Initially, she told him to knock it off. She wasn’t fond of pet names and generally found them to be demeaning. Those opinions were quickly tossed aside with Mulder. Something about the way he used it—low and deep and dripping with love—made her insides turn to mush, along with her brain. 

The stairs creaked under her feet, announcing her arrival to an empty living room. She planned to seek out her family but the vision playing out before her halted any further movement. 

Peering out the front window, Scully had a crystal clear view of Mulder and Lily strolling through the new blossoming flower garden. They were still wearing pajamas and he was bouncing her on his arm and pointing at something off in the distance. 

The baby’s gaze followed the outstretched arm briefly before returning to her father's face. She could see the wide grin of their daughter as she took hold of his nose with her tiny fingers. He satisfied her curiosity, allowing her to smile and grip his nose. Speaking words she could not hear, he tickled her belly and laughed along with her joyous giggles. 

Their glee was infectious and Scully longed to hear the music of laughter with her own ears but concluded that witnessing their bonding from afar was just as precious as joining in. She wanted Mulder to spend quality one-on-one time with Lily.

With one final appreciative glance, she stepped away from the window and swiftly climbed the stairs to their bedroom. The note was where she left it on top of the covers. 

While in the process of opening the special box containing the considerable stockpile of handwritten messages from her husband, when the man in question, and their baby girl, snuck up behind her.

“Whatcha got there, Mommy?” Mulder said with his best impersonation of what their baby might sound like if she could speak. 

He looked as tired as she felt but the pure delight radiating from his every pore masked his exhaustion. This was by far the greatest this man has ever looked; holding their child and gazing down at her with soft and gentle eyes. Fatherhood agreed with him.

He handed Lily over to cuddle with her mother and took the box from her lap, perplexity etched into the lines around his eyes. Lily made her cute little baby noises and clasped her fist around a lock of Scully’s hair. 

Mulder looked dumbfounded as he dug through the miscellaneous scraps of paper cataloging a decades long relationship. “You saved all these?”

She nodded, holding Lily close and kissing the fuzzy hair near her temple. The paper in his hand happened to be the one that started it all: the discolored sunflower seeds receipt.

A laugh bubbled to the surface at the spooky coincidence. 

“The one you’re holding is the first one you left for me, in our office after… you know,” she blushed. Why was she embarrassed? What was it about Fox William Mulder that reduced her to a shy child?

“Mmm, I know.” His voice dropped an octave, not doubt envisioning their first union. He read forty year old Mulder’s message, then flipped it over. “Sunflower seeds.”

“Yeah.” 

That gorgeous smile of his grew brighter. “I couldn’t have found something else to write on? In our _office_?” 

The same thought crossed her mind. She came to the conclusion that it was just Mulder and shouldn’t expect him to change only because they admitted their love to each other.

“It was you. It was such a Mulder thing to do. It was… cute,” she supplied.

Instead of a verbal response, his fingers trailed her jaw and leaned over for a chaste kiss. Before either one of them could move to deepen the kiss further, they were interrupted by giggles and a pair of baby-sized hands eagerly begging for attention. She reached for her father, pulling at his shirtsleeve and wiggling the other arm in his direction. 

Mulder satisfied Lily’s plea and balanced her against his chest. “Hi my beautiful girl, you don’t like to see mommy and daddy kiss, huh?” He punctuated his question with a kiss to her forehead. The grin she gave him made their entire journey worth it. Lily adored her dad and their bond was fierce from the second they laid eyes one another. It warmed her heart.

“How about Lily and I go downstairs to make you some breakfast? Does that sound good? I can cook your favorite while you rest for a few.” He stood with Lily and passed her the open container. Breakfast sounded delicious.

“Sure, Mulder.”

As they went down to destroy her perfectly clean kitchen, she shelved the box. Little did she know, Mulder would leave his daughter heartfelt messages too.

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
